


take my hand (take my whole life, too)

by Meridas



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Battle, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Self-Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-10 23:42:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17435729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meridas/pseuds/Meridas
Summary: An attack in the darkness almost goes terribly wrong, and Caleb isn't about to let Molly be taken from him again.





	take my hand (take my whole life, too)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lucyinthesoupwithcroutons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucyinthesoupwithcroutons/gifts).



> This was a gift for the person with possibly my favorite AO3 name ever, [lucyinthesoupwithcroutons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucyinthesoupwithcroutons/pseuds/lucyinthesoupwithcroutons), as part of the widomauk server winter fic exchange! 
> 
> The prompt was for "'we nearly died and I thought I'd never see you again' battlefield kisses" and some good old-fashioned "getting hurt to protect the other with hurt/comfort." I hope you like it Eimear! <3

He fucking knew that dodeca-fuckball would come back to bite them in the ass one day.

He knew it, he _fucking knew_ they should’ve just left it with the Crownsguard, walked away, and then they never would have had this problem. Drow elves in gleaming black armor sneaking up out of the night, almost surprising Fjord and Beau on watch. Molly is still disoriented, yanked out of his comfortable sleep in Caleb’s arms and fumbling for his swords as the deep pre-dawn black is shattered by Beau’s shouts. Caleb’s lights flood the inside of their little tent as he comes awake with a shout and a spell.

Molly tumbles out of the tent into the rain and comes up swinging. He swipes one sword across his arm, lighting it up with radiant energy. A drow warrior flinches back from the burst of light, and Molly takes the moment of surprise to strike out at her.

A bolt of fire streaks past his shoulder and bursts in the warrior’s face. She snarls through the smoke, teeth gleaming in the moonlight, then lashes back out at Molly.

Her sword darts out and sinks into his shoulder before he can move away, and pain shoots through his shoulder. He yells and shoves back at her, feels the rush of hot blood against his skin.

Jester’s voice shouts out “ _It’s okay guys, we’re gonna be fine!”_ and she bursts into beautiful green-gold light, just as Molly hears the _crack_ of her spiritual lollipop smacking down on someone. His spirits lift, something intangible springing hope from Jester’s cheerful light.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots that greenish light glint off a dagger sweeping up towards him. He twists away from it, but the drow drops the dagger and grabs his wrist, twisting one sword away from her. He snarls “ _fuck off!_ ” into her face in Infernal, but she sneers back at him and cracks him across the face with the hilt of her sword. Stars flash behind his eyes and he tastes blood in his mouth. He wrenches at her grip, but she’s stronger than he is, and he can’t get a good enough angle to hit her with a sword—

Over the rain and the ring of steel against steel, he hears his name shouted, Caleb’s voice thin and cracking with desperation, and he just barely starts to turn when he feels something slam into his back.

For a moment he thinks the dull impact might have just been a rock. Then the numbness spreads through his body, and the world slows and his legs give out from under him. As his knees hit the ground, the impact jars his body. Suddenly the numbness is gone and white-hot pain shoots through his body. His vision goes white and he screams until he can’t breathe.

The drow grins down at him, his wrist still trapped in her hand, and she gives a nod to someone—someone behind Molly. Oh. Caleb warned him—must have left his back open. Stupid mistake, stupid—

The drow shoves at his arm and bends him backwards, and agony flares through his back and chest and he cries out. His sword falls from his fingers, the radiant glow snuffed out. Through graying vision he can see her blade rise above him.

Then he hears Caleb’s voice, a word of power shouted on the wind, and arcane force slams into him.

Molly shouts in surprise as Caleb’s magic sweeps through him. The pain vanishes. Clarity snaps back to his vision and strength rushes back to his body. Adrenaline spikes through his limbs just as the blade strikes down and he throws himself aside just in time. He breaks free of the drow’s grip and snatches up his sword, spins away from her just in time to see Beau barreling across camp, her nerd goggles affixed to her face. She cracks the drow across the back of the head, and Molly breaks away to look for Caleb.

His heart almost stops. Caleb is on his hands and knees, his back bowed as if in pain. He looks up, and a flash of lightning illuminates his face for a split second, pale and drawn with blood trickling from his mouth. As Molly watches, he pushes himself up to his knees, then fumbles into a pocket and pulls out a component.

“ _Keep going!_ ” he shouts at Molly, and the familiar buzz of a Haste spell jolts through him, filling him with energy and speed. He doesn’t have time to waste wondering what brought Caleb low when he was fine, he was _perfectly fine_ just moments ago when Molly went down—

Molly whirls away and chases down the rogue who has his blood on their blade.

It feels like it’s over quickly, after that point. Once the surprise of the attack has worn off, they make short work of the drow assassins. Molly sways on his feet, feeling Caleb’s spell leave him as Beau and Nott begin to go through the bodies. Instead of joining them, Molly turns on his heel and marches back toward his wizard.

Caleb looks terrible. He’s panting for breath, leaning heavily against a tree and still swaying dangerously. There’s not a single new mark on his tattered clothes, but there’s blood on his face and it looks like it takes incredible effort to raise his head to look at Molly.

Molly feels fine, now. He feels a hundred percent healed, perfectly healthy, while Caleb looks like he’s half a second from passing out.

“What did you do?” he demands as he gets up in Caleb’s space. “What— _mnph!_ ”

Caleb’s mouth crushes over his, fierce and messy and taking Molly by surprise. He flails for a moment, finally sets his hands on either side of Caleb’s face and kisses him back. He tries to gentle the kiss, coaxing Caleb to slow down, but the wizard’s hand grips his hair tightly and he kisses Molly like he needs him more than air.

“Caleb,” Molly gasps. “I— _hmm_.” He gives in to it, rocks back under Caleb’s fervor and hauls him closer. Caleb’s tongue sweeps into his mouth, demanding, verging on desperate, and he tastes like copper and licorice but Molly doesn’t care.

Finally the kiss breaks off when Caleb sways, his knees trembling and his weight sagging further into Molly.

“What,” Molly gasps. He wraps his arms firmly around Caleb, steadies him carefully. He should get him out of the rain—he looks like a sneeze would kill him right now. “Caleb, what the _fuck_ was that magic you used on me? What happened to you?”

“I have never used that spell before,” Caleb mutters. He pats Molly’s face, but Molly refuses to be distracted by the cute gesture. “I did not expect—I should have thought of Jester’s spell, it had some… unexpected effects on what I was trying to do…”

“Which was _what_ , Caleb Widogast?” Molly insists.

Caleb laughs, wheezy and disbelieving. His eyes are wide and slightly unfocused. “A—it is a spell of transference,” he says. “You—you were so—you were going to _die_ , Mollymauk, they were going to kill you and I could not watch that happen.” He presses his hand over Molly’s chest. A punch-drunk grin flashes across his face, there and then gone. “You needed the life in me more than I did.”

Molly stares at him. “I—the _life in you_ —”

He shakes him, gently, furiously. “Why would you do that?” he demands. “ _Why?”_

Caleb sways and leans more weight against him, panting. “Because,” he wheezes, and suddenly stops and leans away from Molly and spits out blood. “Because I am not losing you,” he gasps out. “Not again. Not if there is anything I can do about it.”

There’s not a lot Molly can say to that, really. He can’t even quite turn that over in his head, the enormity of what Caleb said and the simple, firm statement he gave. He’ll—he’ll think about it later. Time for it later.

For now, he gathers Caleb back into his arms. “Come on,” he says gently. “Come on, hey, we’ll see if Jester’s feeling tapped, we’ll get you back to bed, alright?”

Jester, as it turns out, is healing up a nasty-looking gash in Nott’s leg. Her eyes widen as the two of them approach, Molly half-carrying Caleb and struggling not to slip on the wet grass. “Oh my gosh _Caleb_ , what happened to you? Why didn’t you _say_ anything this was my last spell I could have _done_ something for you!”

“ _Nein_ ,” Caleb says immediately. “No, Jester, don’t worry, it’s—I’m pretty sure this looks worse than it is.” More of his weight is leaning on Molly by the second. “I will… I can sleep it off, it’s fine.”

His knees buckle. Molly manages to catch him, then waves away Nott’s alarmed shriek. He adjusts his grip around Caleb’s waist. “Okay,” he says. “We’re okay, we’re going to sleep now. He’ll be fine in the morning.” He meets Nott’s gaze. “I’ll take care of him, you know I will.”

Amidst no small amount of grumbling and advice half-shouted after them, Molly gets Caleb back to their tent. It’s not until he’s unlacing Caleb’s boots and setting them aside that he notices his hands are shaking.

He sits back, takes a deep breath. He presses his hands together and squeezes them between his knees so he doesn’t seem them trembling. Surely he just needs to warm them up. It’s just the rain and leftover adrenaline. It’s nothing.

“Molly?” Caleb’s warm hands enter his vision, then cup his face between them. “ _Schatz_ , are you alright?”

Molly opens his mouth. His throat feels sticky and tight. He clears it, trying to project a normal voice. Casual. “Shouldn’t I be asking that question?”

Caleb sighs quietly. His thumb brushes along Molly’s cheek, warm and soothing. He resists the urge to close his eyes and lean into it like he usually does. “I feel like a wet sheet of paper, sure,” Caleb admits, “but that will go away, I will be fine. You seem—the spell did work, didn’t it?”

Molly reaches up and covers one of Caleb’s hands with his. “It did,” he promises. “And I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful, but Caleb—please, _please_ be careful with that. You could have died.”

Caleb’s mouth twists wryly, but he doesn’t point out the obvious. Instead he just leans in and kisses Molly again, much softer than before. Molly lets his eyes slide closed and sighs into it. He keeps the kiss light and gentle, and tries to pour everything he can’t yet say into it.

He doesn’t go far when it breaks. “Come on,” he murmurs, and presses his lips to Caleb’s forehead. “You’re a mess, Mister Caleb. Get some sleep.” He coaxes his wizard down, then follows his insistent hands down as well. He tugs the blankets over the two of them, and pulls Caleb close to his chest.

Molly buries his nose in Caleb’s hair. “ _I love you,_ ” he murmurs, the softest words in Infernal that he knows. He stays stubbornly awake until Caleb’s mumblings trail off and his breathing deepens. Then he closes his eye, breathing in the smell of rain and spell components and dirt, and snuggles close to Caleb as he drifts off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This exchange was a delightful experience, thank you so much to gray for all your hard work on this event! 
> 
> For anyone curious, Life Transference is a real spell, and if cast at 4th level in conjunction with Beacon of Hope, it would take out 40 of Caleb's 41 HP! :)
> 
> Thank you thank you to steelneena for the beta!!


End file.
